


Five Minutes (Twenty Minutes)

by NervousAsexual



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Jewish Headcanons, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sort Of Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: After the stress of being pinned by snipers Gordon is adamant that Barney needs some rest.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun & Gordon Freeman, Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 3
Kudos: 212





	Five Minutes (Twenty Minutes)

Twenty minutes. That wasn't so long, was it? Just enough time to catch their breath and get some of the stiffness out of his muscles.

No, actually, it was too long, Gordon. He didn't mean to put the sharp sarcastic emphasis on the name but there it was, clear as day. There were snipers out there and a fledgling rebellion and somewhere Alyx and...

And he tried to take a step toward the stairs and the stiff sore muscles in his calf seized up in agonizing pain and he stumbled. Would have hit the floor if Gordon hadn't caught him. With his hands full he didn't say anything, but he knew what Gordon's expression would be.

"Dammit, Gordon." It did hurt. He didn't know how long he'd been stuck up here crouching behind the only cover he could find but it was hell on his back and his legs and he wanted a drink of water so bad he thought he might cry. "You got me. You're right and I can't walk straight. Happy?"

When he looked up at him Gordon arranged his features to look thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged.

"There just ain't no pleasing you, is there?"

Gordon gave him a smile. He took hold of the backs of his arms and tugged him down toward the floor.

"Wait, I don't..."

The strained muscles in his legs burned with pain and then gave out and he crashed down on his knees with Gordon not too far behind. His left knee struck something hard--an empty magazine from his pistol--and it hurt but it also pissed him off because of course it would be his bad leg, why not, but he bit his tongue because in his heart he knew that was just the pain talking.

Gordon sat down with his back to the wall that had been his only cover just minutes before and helped him lean back, one arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders.

_Sorry_ , he signed.

"Yeah, yeah."

After the endless cracking of the sniper shots his ears were ringing. Briefly he toyed with the idea that he had gone deaf, that tinnitus was the only thing he was ever going to hear again, but just as he was resigning himself to that fact, head drooping down to rest on Gordon's shoulder, a wailing howl echoed through the empty streets.

"Strider," he said, struggling to sit up. His body seemed weirdly heavy and his eyes felt like they were burning. Gordon pulled him back down.

_Not here,_ he signed. _Out there._

So? he thought. Didn't matter where exactly the strider was, it was still one more thing the Combine could use to tear up the resistance.

But at the same time it was such a relief to lean against Gordon and let his eyes drift shut.

Five minutes, he thought. Twenty was too long, but five minutes might not hurt.

* * *

His eyes snapped open and the sky above was streaked in pink and blue. The world was sideways? No, no, he was laying on his back and Gordon was looking down at him and he knew it had been more than five minutes, more than twenty, more than he'd bargained for.

"Dammit, Gordon, why'd you let me sleep?" He pushed himself up to a sitting position, head pounding, and reached around for a weapon. A pulse rifle lay near Gordon's feet. Good enough. He grabbed it and started to stand. "We gotta get moving."

Very calmly Gordon took him by the arm and shook his head. _You better?_

No, not really. "Doesn't matter. You got places to be, I got things to do..."

_Shut up._ Gordon let go of his arm. There was a frown on his face that sent Barney's heart into his throat. _Sit down._

He sat.

_You sick?_

"I'm fine. But we..."

_You. Sick._

"Gordon..."

_A.R.E._ He was finger-spelling now. He looked almost angry. _Y.O.U. S.I.C.K._

"No. No, I'm not sick."

_You hurt?_

"I'm not hurt." Gordon raised an eyebrow. He looked down at the tear in the sleeve of Barney's CP armor, and when Barney looked there was blood stained around it. "It was just a graze. Medic patched me up. I'll be fine."

The frown on Gordon's face turned regretful.

"Geez, Gordon. You know I was at Black Mesa when shit went south, right? I've been in the resistance, I've been in CP... I've seen way worse than this."

If anything Gordon's expression grew even sadder.

"It's just the way things are now. I've just been handling, same as everybody else."

_Still not alright._

"You wanna take it up with the Combine? I'm sure they're open to feedback. Wanna talk to the manager? It's Breen. Who takes criticism better than Breen?"

Gordon smiled and shook his head. _I really missed you_.

City 17 was silent, and Barney was too tired to stand it. "I missed you too, buddy. Kleiner's nice but he hates my burmuelos."

Gordon opened his mouth in a scandalized gasp. _No_!

"I mean, with food rationing they're pretty much pancakes with maybe a slab of honey slapped on there. My nana would kill me. But I'm trying and that's what counts."

_Naturally._

"I'll make you a batch all to yourself next Hanukkah, celebrate you giving the Combine the boot." Barney gave him a weary smile. "And wait til you've tried my resistance fazuelos. Wanna know the secret?" Gordon nodded and held out his arm. Without even thinking about it Barney sank back against him again. "Headhumper eggs." He chuckled before a yawn caught hold of him. "Heh. Nana's probably spinning in her grave." Gordon's arms were around him and it felt unbelievably nice. "Hell, Gordon. You're gonna be the death of me." Now Gordon's cheek was resting against the top of his head. Tears were already welling in his eyes. "Gordon, we really gotta get going."

Gordon just sighed and hugged him tighter. As he drifted off to sleep Barney thought he felt him kiss the top of his head (just like his nana had done once upon a time), but he couldn't be sure it wasn't a dream.


End file.
